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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614251">We won or we think we did.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurpassTheStars/pseuds/SurpassTheStars'>SurpassTheStars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crimson Egg Vines, Dialogue Light, Inspired by Music, M/M, Post-Finale on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Selectively Mute Toby Smith | Tubbo, They’re gonna heal I promise, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatised Teen Wishes Life Wasn't Shit, disgusting, no beta we die like wilbur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:02:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurpassTheStars/pseuds/SurpassTheStars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em> Instead, he looks at the window, at the slowly rising sun. It seems so peaceful it unnerved him, he was born and raised to be a soldier. They aren’t trained for tranquility, only screaming and war. But there is no war now. </em><br/><br/>The thoughts of who once was a child soldier in a world that is no longer war torn and filled with death and betrayals.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam | Awesamdude &amp; TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We won or we think we did.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title and fic inspired by ‘ In Our Bedroom After The War’ by Stars! good song it makes me cry like a little bitch sometimes </p><p>follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/M3MENTOMORl">twitter</a> im cool i promise</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tubbo has been awake for a while, he woke up before the sun rose and war after war told him he needed to be ready and vigilant before the sun. He jumped out of bed at first, brain going into tired panic as he looked around for his sword before he realised that there is no war to fight anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he went back to bed, careful not to jolt away Tommy whose bed they pushed next to his after they both kept having repeated nightmares, it’s practical. Tubbo tried to sleep for a while, everytime he closed his eyes flashes of fireworks and hot pain danced under his eyelids made him snap them open with a gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he looks at the window, at the slowly rising sun. It seems so peaceful it unnerved him, he was born and raised to be a soldier. They aren’t trained for tranquility, only screaming and war. But there is no war now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy shifts around at some point, when the birds had long left their nests and the sun made its presence in the sky. Tubbo’s back was turned to him, still staring at the window so he assumed he was still asleep. Despite how loud of a persona Tommy puts on he is quiet when he needs to be, so quiet. He whispers a good morning to Tubbo and slipped out of bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the door to their room closes with a click, Tubbo counts to ten before he turns on his back. He knew he had to move, the war may be over but his responsibilities have only just begun, yet, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He fidgeted with the bracelet Tommy made him a week after Dream was put into the prison and sighed deeply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at his hands, colloused and scarred, he thought about what he could’ve become had he not joined this server. Had he not joined this family. He would’ve been happy, he thinks. Maybe he’d be living somewhere in a city, opening a bakery. He might’ve been living on the outskirts of the woods, tending to his animals and crops that he would sell to the village once a week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would he have met the people he did if he hadn’t joined? He would’ve met Tommy, he believes that. But– he would be glad to have not met half of the people he had. His lips pulled into a frown, he wasted so much time fighting battles much bigger than he was, he learned how to hold a bow with expertise before his uniform fit him correctly, and he learned how to cut down and kill someone before the baby fat left his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to mourn for a childhood he never got to have, but he learned that mourning is weakness, and weakness is immediate death. Instead, he pushes himself off the bed and starts walking down the hallway into the kitchen. Tommy is sitting at the table eating breakfast, dressed up and ready to go despite how early it is. He softly hits his head on Tommy’s shoulder as a greeting and turns to get himself a serving of food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mornin’.” Breakfast is spent in a quiet silence, it wasn’t awkward in the slightest, both basking in the presence of the other before they have to leave to do their own thing. The static at the back of his mind pushing to the front. He eats and watches as Tommy takes their plates to the sink for later, he watches Tommy strap a sword to his back and hide a dagger in his boot, he says goodbye and watches Tommy exit their home, locking the door behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits on the windowsill and tucks his knees under his chin, he still has time before he needs to go anywhere. No longer on the tight schedule under Schlatt or being the president himself, but if he stays and does nothing he gets antsy. The buzz of bees and chirps of birds distract him for a while but his body itches to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing up, he moves back into their bedroom to get changed, no point in wasting more time. Tubbo doesn’t know what he wants to do today, he doesn’t have that much energy to go and build or chat with others. But he still puts on his normal clothes, shoves potions and other things that might be helpful into his satchel and straps his sword onto his back. It never hurt to be prepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strong feeling in his chest that he refuses to acknowledge stings him as he puts on his shoes and leaves their little hut. He closes the door and locks it, double checks it before making his way back into the SMP. He’s on guard, he knows it’s unnecessary but it’s hard to just unlearn years of harsh first-hand lessons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deeper he walks towards what was L’manburg the more the static grows, there are vines everywhere and he purses his lips into a straight line as he tries his hardest to avoid touching them. The place is louder than their secluded safe house but all he could focus on is the vines and his breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He passes by Tommy and Sam at the construction site, waving to them before continuing his way down the path, he hears Tommy’s obnoxious laughter and it makes the feeling in his chest grow heavier. The laugh is not as carefree as it used to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows, as he settles onto the edge of the docks, that the feeling in his chest is sorrow. He ignores it, and brings out his fishing pole instead, it is so quiet it feels like it is drowning him but he sits there and watches the ripples in the water and the soft noises of life around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They won the war, they won it three times over. But it doesn’t feel like they’ve won, not truly. He learned to survive during war and now he doesn’t know how to live without it. Sometimes his scarred chest burns, sometimes Tommy wakes up with a scream, sometimes they both shut down and revert to violence and anger because that is all they knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he wishes things were different, he wishes he got to be a kid because now he couldn’t have that anymore. They won the war but they didn’t truly win. They won but it cost them more in their teenage years than most people will ever have to give up their entire lives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to heal. He wants to be okay and happy. He wants to be a kid for once and not think about death and betrayals. He doesn’t want to feel like a crumbling Atlas.</span>
</p>
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